What once was
by ArraMidnight
Summary: After they have broken up France is sick and wanders home to England. Obviously there is hints of FrancexEngland, story takes place when Canada and America are children.


France

I brushed floods of water out of my eyes trying to keep from being blinded by the rain. The cold was intense, cutting through my clothes and freezing my skin straight through to the bone. My poor tiny boy, I held the swaddled child in my arms tighter, afraid of his frozen body which was already ailing enough without me dragging him clear across the world! I could barely stand, though of course Matthieu need not know that, in his mind I was well and he was the one who was sick. My head spun viciously, I couldn't stop, nor could I drop my child in this horrible rain, bloody stupid useless England was the worst nation..!

"Papa where are we going?" Matt pushed back his hood from his blue eyes. I pressed our faces together keeping my almost clear vision on where my feet were falling against the cobblestone streets.

"We're going to see daddy and Alfie." His flush face brightened with the first really true smile I had seen on him in ages, oh my sweet baby boy, he reached up twirling the fabric of my shirt in between his fingers. Yeah I know bébé , it had only been two months but in a child's mind that was an eternity away from those you love.

Thank god, I thought sucking in a breath. A house loomed in front of me as I rounded the corner, the house we had once all lived in. I climbed the stairs falling against the door and grabbing the door knocker unceremoniously. Please Arthur, I know we don't love one another like we used too, but I swear to you I think I'm dying and I need to know our little boy is safe in your arms before I can let that happen...

England

Clunk, clunk! I blinked vaguely in the darkness. What the bloody hell was banging at this hour of the night! Damn it all to hell Alfie, if your awake your a dead child! I pushed back the bed clothes snapping back from the cold when my feet touched the ground. I moved my toes across the floor until I managed to find slippers.

I shuffled down the hall miserably holding my head in exhaustion as I headed towards my young son's room. Hm, strange...Alfred lay sound asleep, though beginning to stir as I opened the door fully to make sure that it couldn't have been him making the noise. Weird, than who...The front door!

"Daddy?" I heard a small voice say groggily behind me.

"You awake poppet?" I turned back to see him sitting up in bed rubbing his eyes. "Stay at the top of the stairs while I run down okay." His tiny feet scampered behind me as I headed down to the first floor.

"I'm gonna watch okay England?" I waved to him, though he probably couldn't see it in the darkness, the message must have gotten across because he didn't move.

"Just stay there." I reached the door nervous for what could be there. This late at night any visitor had me on edge. I looked out, squinting in the dark and miserable night, the rain began to soak my skin the moment the swung door closed behind me.

"Daddy!" To the left side of the porch a child's voice called me, but Alfred was inside wasn't he? I turned quickly to the voice. In the shadowy corner of two figures lay bundled and sopping wet...My heat stopped as the voice finally registered in my groggy brain.

"Matt!" I dropped to the ground as the little boy tried to pull himself free of his father's cloak and the arms that held him, unconscious arms. I kicked the door opened calling up the stairs. "Alfred get down here now!" My son's foot falls had started before I could call him again.

"What is it da...Matty!" He lunged towards his little brother hugging him tightly.

"Bring Matthieu upstairs and get him in dry clothes, I'm coming up and I'll get a fire going in a few moments alright."

"Yes sir." I heard the boy's footsteps disappear again.

"Holy crap Francis, whats wrong with you!" How could he drink so much? This was the reason I wasn't with him any...I moved back his cloak brushing away his hair. He was clammy and so pale he was almost blue. His hair was dirty and stringy, he would never have let himself look this way if he could help it, he simply had to much pride to ever appear unwell, that is unless... He wasn't just being a drunken moron was he? He was really sick! "France?" I brushed his icy cheeks lightly, oh my god, I flicked his cheeks again, he just had to wake up! He rolled slightly, eyes fluttering opened only enough to see violet blue peaking through beneath his long eyelashes.

"Arthur..."Oh thank god Francis, I pulled him up as best I could, I had to get him upstairs and as quickly as possible. I focused all of the strength in body into my moving him and pulled him into my arms, situating him against my side and hurrying up the stairs.

"Daddy whats wrong!" My older child lunged forward towards me as I entered my bedroom where he and his little brother were waiting.

"Grab the blanket off the chair and cover papa." I ran quickly to the fire, my hands were shaking violently. Steady you idiot! I shouted in my head, you needed to be okay enough to help! My fingers flicked the flint one more time and I thanked whatever god there was that the log before me lite on fire. I let out a breath trying to ease the shaking out of my body once again. Clothes. I had to get him into something that wasn't sopping wet. I ran to the closet pulling out a pile of his clothes I had discovered in my dresser a few weeks ago, at the time they had made me cry, but now I was grateful that he was absent-minded when packing. "Thank you darlings, go get Matty in warm clothes and bring the blankets from your bed okay?"

"Why daddy?" Matthieu asked, he looked so pale, so terribly sick, oh my poor baby.

"We are having a sleep over in my room tonight." They both smiled, almost identical little faces scrunching up in unison and they hurried from the room. I stripped France of his clothes toweling his limp body. Black bruises covered his side and his skin was so thin, like silk pulled over his internal organs. I wrapped the towel around his head, his eyes blinked opened again.

"I'm cold England." He muttered head lulling to the side. I pulled his clothes on, moving down to pull wool socks over his feet.

"I know my..." My what? What were we to one another? I hesitated, before finishing the sentence."My love." I whispered, yes that was right, he always would be in some way. He would always be the man I loved enough to share our beautiful children with.

"We have blankets daddy!" America came barreling back in pulling what appeared to be his whole bed, his brother and the rug from the hallway excitedly behind him.

"Thanks you two. I'm gonna put papa in the bed and then you guys have to pull the blankets up and get in, got it?" They nodded matching tiny blond heads.

"Wheres Matty?" Francis muttered as I pushed him to the far side of the bed making enough room for us all to fit, this was something we had done many times in the children's young lives...It really wasn't just the children that were still to young to already be looking back on the better times, we were far to young to feel as old as already I did!

"Hes gonna get into bed in a moment, now you get under the covers before you freeze." He nodded curling onto his side into a pile of pillows. The kids climbed in pulling more blankets over us. Immense warmth enveloped me, and a sense of almost utopian comfort that I hadn't even remembered how much I longed for until this moment. Matt burrowed into the contour of my side, tiny fingers twirling through the short spiky pieces of my hair. He was already asleep before I could even get situated.

"Papa I've missed you." America's whisper carried across from the other side of the bed.

"And I you mon chéri." France said back, I could hear the smile in his voice, at least I knew that he was present enough to muster genuine kindness towards our children. Alfred shuffled around, no doubt putting himself as close as humanly possible to his other father, he always could find the place in bed that would guarantee the person next to him discomfort.

My family.

We surely weren't perfect, and we wouldn't be like this forever. We had already come to terms with that fact, but at least I knew I could come back to my babies and the man I had once loved with all my soul and probably, in some small part of me, still did.


End file.
